Forgotten Compassion
by Halfsan
Summary: -Oneshot- -Megaman Classic- He hated all. All hated him. But her ignorance showed him that not everyone was afraid of him. -no pairs-


**I was looking through my collection of Rockman pictures, and one in particular inspired this piece. Mainly inspired by Rockman Megamix as well. **

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><p>Nothing's changed.<p>

It will always be this way for me. I still haven't figured out if it's something in my programming, or if it's my actual will, but.. the very thought of it brings joy to me. Destruction. Absolute destruction of everything. It was what I was built to do.

No one cared about me. But I didn't care either. My brothers were all built with some domestic purpose intended on aiding mankind. I was different in the sense that I was built for combat and nothing else. And my creator—my father, as it were—seemed to even disregard my existence completely. Was he ashamed of the birth of such a destructive creature?

I had no family to call my own. They didn't feel like family to me. I was just some monster locked away in a room for no one to see. It was for their benefit. I may snap and take a life or two. Not usually, though. Despite my overwhelming desire to bring despair, I was installed with some safeguards. I have the endurance to override it, but only under provocation. My _family_ usually kept their distance. Like I was some disease.

Let them think what they want. They treat me like a killing machine. The analogy isn't inaccurate. My _father's _other robots were so good-natured and kind—one of them even worked for the police—that it is such a wonder he was capable of creating an uncaring creature such as myself. It may have been against his will, but it was curious that I still existed. Why I wasn't scrapped after my mission is beyond me. Why would he let me live only to ignore me? My fist tightened, energy humming as it coursed through my circuitry.

I didn't care. That was something I kept telling myself. I didn't care about my family. I had no friends, only enemies. I had no one to relate to. No one to even talk to. If I didn't care, then why was I so angry? Was it just my malicious intent begging to be unleashed? That had to be it. I don't need love or compassion.

The door to my room opened suddenly. It surprised me because no ever entered my room. I sat upright in the middle of the floor, resting my chin on my knees. I didn't do much else. I glared at the door, trying to determine who dared to even come near me. The light switch—something I had completely forgotten existed—was flicked on, filling the room with bright light. My eyes squeezed shut as the intensity had caught me off guard. I blinked the speckles from my vision, and set eyes on the intruder.

It was a young girl that I didn't recognize. Not immediately at least. After observing her features for a moment, I determined her to be the daughter of my creator. She was human, unlike the rest of his "children." She looked around the room, calling out for her father. She seemed to be looking for him. What was her name again? It's not like I care anyway.

I wasn't sure if I had ever been formally introduced to this girl. Every now and then, I could hear a female voice speaking with my so-called brothers from within my room. They really did act like a family without me. I don't care.

The small child locked her blue eyes with me. They widened with curiosity and she took slow steps closer to me. It was obvious she hadn't seen me before. I simply glared at her, holding my position.

Get away from me, I thought.

She started talking to me—cautiously—but I simply ignored her. It was obvious that I was ignoring her, but she continued speaking to me with a small voice. It mainly consisted of greetings, or making sure I was still functional.

Something in me wanted to end her. She hadn't really done anything wrong, but my programming was giving me this uncontrollable urge to snap her tiny neck.

But she was actually acknowledging me. Something no one else had ever done. It gave me a sense of purpose. Did I matter to this girl even a little bit?

I could safely say the answer was no. Who in their right mind would care for a bringer of destruction like myself? She doesn't care about me. I don't care about her. I don't even particularly care about myself. My existence seems wasted because people fear me.

The girl got even closer to me. So close, her small hands were reaching out to me, her tiny fingers twitching with anxiety. Do it, human. Touch me and see what happens. I dare you.

Warmth.

I could feel the warmth from her fingertips as they gently glided against the top of my head. In that moment, I felt my anger melt away. Her curious touch had a sense of caring behind it that I could not comprehend. No one had ever come near me since my birth because of their fear of my presence. But this small child approached me without a second thought.

I knew good and well it was merely her childlike curiosity fueling her actions, but I still felt more compassion than I had ever experienced since my birth. I had finally met the only thing I didn't desire to destroy.

The door slammed open, and a very angry—very recognizable—voice bellowed through my ears. The child retracted her hands, and spun around, looking at the source of the voice. It was her father—my creator. He began scolding her for being in here, being near me. She tried to protest, but he wouldn't hear it. The doctor led his daughter out of my room, tossing me a rather hateful glare before slamming the door shut.

It wasn't long after that I had forgotten compassion. My anger and hate resurfaced and blinded my memories. A questionable longing surfaced as I stared hard at the entrance to my room, hoping once again to be reunited with the one thing that calmed my rage.

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><p><strong>I tried to be vague, but I'm sure it's obvious which Robot Master I'm talking about. Reviews are appreciated.<strong>


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